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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426559">Weird science</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofarmor/pseuds/heartofarmor'>heartofarmor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Pygmalion and Galatea (Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore), M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:27:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofarmor/pseuds/heartofarmor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"He can't be your boyfriend Yeonjun; You made him up."</p><p>or</p><p>Yeonjun is an artist who is stuck, and, in an exercise to reignite his creative flame, he accidentally brings a boy to life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>206</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Creating him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is my first work for this fandom so if its a bit ooc im sorry lol this fic is EXTREMELY self indulgent in general and this is only the first part of a couple but i hope u enjoy it bc i enjoyed writing it (also sorry for any mistakes i didnt have anyone read it oops)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          The idea was simple, or at least it made sense in his mind.  To be fair, he had inhaled quite a lot of vaporized turpentine unintentionally over the years, so who’s to say any of his ideas are simple, or even sensical, to anyone else. </p>
<p>Artists paint to capture people, and Yeonjun was trying to paint to create someone.  That was all. </p>
<p>An amalgamation of features he found particularly narratively compelling was a creative exercise that he embarked on in an attempt to reignite a flame he feared had been put out, desperately seeking some sort of spark to keep his painterly side alive and well.  It was a constant fear of his, that he’d lose it, and, he hoped he could cement that spark within him. </p>
<p>Music played softly and Yeonjun found himself fully back in the swing of creating on the canvas, surrounded by snippets of references that made his studio look like a room-sized ransom note, paintbrushes in his hands, his pockets, one in his mouth.  His palette was a mess, dispersed among three pages of paper, Yeonjun thinking his lips needed a sheet of their own considering how long he had spent perfecting the boy’s skin color.</p>
<p>Oh yeah, he was painting a boy.  He liked them.</p>
<p>He never had the opportunity to date anyone past elementary school fleeting supposed romances with girls who giggled enough to get his attention.  He knew he was probably a little lonely, but not so much so that it was an obvious gap in his happiness, or his work.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Jun-hyung, maybe you can’t make art because you don’t have a </em>muse<em>.”  He looked to the younger who sat on a bar stool next to him, a teasing look across his face.  Yeonjun rolled his eyes.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ve told you.  Muses are overrated.  I do what I want.  That’s never been a problem.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“All I’m saying is maybe you would be inspired if you, you know, went into the world more than a couple times a week.  Like if you bonded with someone.  Anyone.”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yeonjun was up to the finishing touches, finding himself spending long periods of time staring at the character he was conceiving, idly pushing his brush against the coil in his jar of brush cleaner, over and over as he pondered what was missing.</p>
<p>There was something about people with the corners of their lips turned down, but he was more endeared by someone who had a clever quirk to their lips even at their angriest, scrapping the lips and repainting them, bands of baby pink to form the archer’s ideal bow for an upper lip, his ideal partner for fitting between his two lips, but he probably shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of making out with his painting.  He could paint a damn good pair of lips, though.</p>
<p>A silly part of him enjoyed the control of molding someone from scratch, combining features to make someone whose face he could read as the artist who made him, a face that others might spend time trying to understand.  Maybe he was creating his platonic ideal, but it was an enjoyable experience at least, and it had been a while since he was hypnotized by the process of creating. </p>
<p>Years of portraiture under his belt and he understood that everyone had a face that felt personal when painting it; Everyone had features that added character to the cover that people would judge.  He understood what circumstance was behind the complex cluster of wrinkles at the end of the brow, story behind the scar, individuality behind the swirl of warmth in the iris of the eyes.  He understood the relationship between personality and physicality, the relationship between a person and what made them appear the way they did.</p>
<p>Not exactly superficial, no, but instead understanding the way the face can embody a person.  He understood everyone to be beautiful. </p>
<p>The finishing touch was the dimples, the kind that could even appear on the boy’s angry face.  He enjoyed thinking of scenarios, imagining the boy he was creating as if he were real, in a conversation, at a party, on the clock, anywhere boys are.  Something about the idea of this boy being real, this boy that Yeonjun could predict himself being utterly infatuated with, it kept him going.  The boy <em>felt</em> real, as was the nature of working closely with references, and also not particularly trying to make an ideal boy, but instead his ideal boy.</p>
<p>Yeonjun stepped back, the boy he had created was <em>beautiful</em>.  Yes, he had full control over every feature, so why wouldn’t he be beautiful.  He quickly scrawled his name at the bottom, where the boy’s left hand hung idly, before turning the canvas over.  Grabbing a stick of charcoal from one of his many worktables, he scrawled the date and his own last name. </p>
<p>His eyebrows scrunched, something about it feeling unfinished.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>The boy needed a name.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Similarly to how Yeonjun considered a face to reveal much about a person, the embodiment of a person in their presentation, a name held that same weight.  This boy had no name.</p>
<p>Choi was already written on the back, and Yeonjun didn’t mind giving this boy his last name.  He tried out a couple of names on his tongue, <em>Soobin </em>capturing the calm and rolling energy of the boy’s face, the depth behind his eyes.  Plus, it didn’t need to be overthought.  Choi Soobin as he named him would simply be a canvas that stays in the stack of all of his other paintings, as he had served the purpose Yeonjun needed him to.</p>
<p>Creatively, at least, but he hoped his next project involved getting him out more, because falling in love with a boy he created with some paint and careful hand movements suggested that was definitely something that should be prioritized.</p>
<p>Picking up the canvas, walking over and putting it on the ledge by the window to dry before his creation would go with all of the others, he was finally finished.  He let out a deep sigh, the physical tension of painting leaving his body as he began to crumple the sheets of palettes, but he could clean the whole studio and still Soobin wouldn’t leave his mind. </p>
<p>Always a creative purpose he liked to think about how Soobin would sound talking, how his lips would part to form words, and how his eyes would scrunch up when he laughed.  He liked thinking about how the little glimmer Yeonjun had given Soobin alluded to a brightness that he thought would probably be contagious.  The way his teeth stuck out a bit in combination with the full and smooth cheeks reminding the artist of a rabbit.  A face of warmth and comfort making this figment of his imagination very much alive in his eyes.  He had brought him to life.</p>
<p>The long day of working left him exhausted and he stomped off to the couch in the other room, his bed now after his bedroom took on the role of a studio, pulling a pillow to his chest and knocking out for the night, dreaming of the boy he could only meet in his mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>         Yeonjun woke up at around quarter to midnight to his stomach growling and he was not particularly interested in finding something to cook.  And then so he went, into the night in search of a late-night meal.  Light bells chimed as he found himself assaulted by the bright, cool lighting of the convenient store. </p>
<p>The air was comfortable in contrast to the humidity outside, and despite the chilling and somewhat lonesome energy of the small shop, there was an energy that made him feel at ease. </p>
<p>“Evening,” he said to the shopkeeper, a smile across his face. </p>
<p>He walked slowly down the aisle, trying to figure out what he was looking for, his gaze on the shelves filled with a variety goods.  The aisles were nearly empty, as it was late on a weeknight in a quieter neighborhood, and it was for that reason that when he heard something drop to the ground a few feet away.  He turned to his left just at the time to watch as a head of dark brown hair ducked down to pick up what was dropped.  He looked back to the task at hand.</p>
<p>Focusing on the selection, he tried to dismiss the weird feeling he recognized at the pit of his stomach, but he couldn’t.  Slowly, he rose from his crouched position and peaked over the top of the aisle, meeting a pair of eyes over the various colorful packages.</p>
<p>He knew those eyes.</p>
<p>He jumped back, startled.  They couldn’t be <em>those</em> eyes.</p>
<p>The eyes he spent hours with a pathetically tiny brush creating from the depths of his artistic understanding of the human face.  The ones he was so certain were by his own design, eyes of which he was the god whose hands crafted them.  And yet, there they were, staring at him over rows of instant noodles. </p>
<p>“S-Soobin?” He felt crazy.  There was no way this was Soobin.  He <em>made </em>Soobin.</p>
<p>“Do I know you?” The boy across the aisle flopped his head to the side in confusion and Yeonjun’s heart sank.  They weren’t just his eyes, but his lips, his cheeks, his teeth.</p>
<p>There was some way that this was Soobin. </p>
<p>He <em>actually </em>brought a boy to life. </p>
<p>It couldn’t be possible.</p>
<p>Yeonjun stuttered out, “Uh.. your name is Ch-Choi Soobin?”</p>
<p>Soobin pouted, Yeonjun recognizing how the dimple peaked out. “Yes?  Is there a problem?”</p>
<p>Yeonjun said nothing, just crouched back down until he couldn’t see Soobin anymore, running low to turn the corner of the aisle.  He looked Soobin up and down, at this point expecting the boy to be cut off where the canvas did, but he was pleased to find that not only did he have legs, but he was even taller than Yeonjun. </p>
<p>“This can’t be happening,” Yeonjun muttered under his breath.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Soobin took steps toward Yeonjun and Yeonjun froze, nearly stumbling backwards.  “Really, what’s wrong?” Eyebrows knitted together with concern, Soobin wondered what he had done to concern this stranger to this extent. </p>
<p>“Nothing,” Yeonjun shook his head trying to get himself back together.  There was no way that he was real.  He was hallucinating the boy from his painting after a weird rest.  Maybe he was still dreaming.  “I just thought I recognized you, is all.”</p>
<p>“You know my name,” Soobin pointed out.  “Do you go to the university?” He asked, and Yeonjun felt his heart tug at the earnest efforts to help him as opposed to being freaking out and calling the authorities.  Yeonjun nodded and tried to ignore the efforts at conversation.  He was dreaming.  He had to be dreaming. </p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s gotta be it.” He laughed nervously.  “See you around.”  He scrambled out of the convenience store, practically running home.  He could figure out what to eat later, as, frankly, he lost his appetite. </p>
<p>He frantically tore the painting down off of the shelf, wondering if maybe he had crawled out of the canvas but no, the boy who he had run into in the convenience store was, in fact, the boy who he had painted, still on the canvas before him.</p>
<p>He knew he had never seen Soobin before the painting.  There was no way.</p>
<p>He must be hallucinating, not knowing what to do besides calling his best friend. </p>
<p>“You’ve got to believe me.  Beomgyu this is <em>him</em>.”</p>
<p>“You need to sleep more, hyung,” Beomgyu said pointedly through the phone, and Yeonjun brought a hand to his forehead in frustration.</p>
<p>“It was <em>him.</em>  I would know.  Have you ever stared at my face for hour?  No.  You have no idea what my face looks like.  Beomgyu, I made his face.  And then it was in front of me.”  He heard his friend sigh through the receiver. </p>
<p>“You know you’re not gonna convince me you didn’t hallucinate him.”</p>
<p>“Yes, fuck, I know.  But.  He goes to our university, you’ll see him then.”</p>
<p>“Like, I don’t know, a thousand people go to our school.”</p>
<p>Yeonjun had the same thought himself, but decided that if Soobin was somewhere, and it actually was <em>his </em>Soobin, he wouldn’t be lost so easy.  “I’ll find him.”</p>
<p>“That’s so weird.” Beomgyu laughed an incredulous, breathy kind of laugh. </p>
<p>“What about this isn’t?”</p>
<p>“Did you eat?”  Yeonjun rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“I will.”</p>
<p>“Good.  I’ll see you in class tomorrow.  I’ll get coffee?”</p>
<p>He was a fool if he thought Yeonjun would offer to pay in response to that question, “I got it last time.”</p>
<p>“So yes.  Okay I’ll see you tomorrow.” A pause.  “Sleep, really.”</p>
<p>“I will.” Yeonjun did sleep, half expecting to wake up for it all to have been a dream, half hoping to wake up for it to not have been.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Is he real or am I crazy?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hehe chapter two there is MUCH more soobin and as a result MUCH more yeonbin and also lots of beomjun banter which i enjoyed writing very much again please let me know if u have any thoughts hehe</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>         “So what, you spent all day painting, took a nap, and when you woke up the boy wasn’t in the painting but in the shop down the street?  I’ve got this right?”  Beomgyu had the end of a pencil between his teeth, a coffee cup dripping condensation onto the table between them. </p><p>“Exactly.  Except he was still in the painting when I got back.”  Yeonjun had woken up that morning with a dry mouth, anxiety settling in as he thought about the very real possibility that he had fully hallucinated a painting come to life the night before, and unsure if the alternative that he had accidentally somehow brought a painting to life was much better. </p><p>Beomgyu raised his hands to his face.  “God, you checked.”</p><p>“Look I know it-“</p><p>“Did anyone else see him?  Like in the store?”</p><p>“No.” Beomgyu raised a brow and Yeonjun sighed.  “I’m telling you.  <em>I</em> saw him.”</p><p>“I never said that <em>you</em> didn’t,” Beomgyu said.  Yeonjun took a sip of his coffee, idly staring at the door to the library. “All I’m saying is I would move on to phase two of understanding your little situation here if I knew there was actually a boy there.”</p><p>Yeonjun’s eyes flitted to the younger sitting across from him.  “What would phase two be?”</p><p>Beomgyu took the pencil out of his mouth and pointed the tip at him, “I haven’t gotten to that yet.”</p><p>Yeonjun crushed his teeth down onto the straw of his own beverage, the drink inside now almost half water from the melted ice.  He couldn’t focus on the drink, or even the dismissal from his friend.  His eyes were on the door.  “I’m telling you; It was him.”</p><p>“I’ll believe it when I see it.” At that moment Yeonjun’s eyes widened, and Beomgyu turned his head on a swivel to look at the door he knew the elder had been staring at through their whole conversation.  “Ah shit.”</p><p>“You see him, too?” Yeonjun looked away.</p><p>“That’s him?”</p><p>“Yeah.  You see him?”</p><p>“I see him.” Neither of them exactly expected him to start to walk from the door over to where they sat, but Beomgyu certainly hadn’t expected Yeonjun to drop under the table.  “Are you kidding?”</p><p>“Hide me.”</p><p>“He saw you already.”</p><p>“I’m hiding.”</p><p>He was real.  Beomgyu could see him.  Soobin <em>was</em> real.</p><p>“Hiding or panicking?”</p><p>“Can’t a man do both?”</p><p>“Hello.” Yeonjun’s heart stopped.  It was his voice, again.  “You alright?” He didn’t even know tall people could even squat low enough to look under tables, but Soobin was looking at him, now, a comforting grin on his lips.  God those stupid dimples; Why did he add those?  He was a dead man.  A dead man whose secret position had been made.</p><p>“I told you he saw you,” Beomgyu muttered and it took everything in Yeonjun to not bite his bare calf.  “I’m sorry about him.”  Soobin moved to stand up, Yeonjun reflexively moving his hand to the corner of the table to ensure the taller boy wouldn’t bump his head on the way up and Soobin quirking a subtle smile at the motion.  “He’s scared of boys.”</p><p>“Apparently,” Soobin nodded.  “You wanna come out from down there?”</p><p>“Not really,” Yeonjun said softly, before crawling out. </p><p>“It’s okay to be embarrassed after last night,” Soobin quirked a brow.  Yeonjun felt his stomach twist.  “You don’t have to be.  I think it’s cute.” And again.</p><p>“Yeah, he’s pretty endearing,” Beomgyu smirked. </p><p>“Are you guys studying for theory of evolution?” Soobin narrowed his eyes, focusing on the pages of the book that Beomgyu had open in front of him despite not having read a single word.</p><p>“Unfortunately,” Beomgyu tutted.  “Not Yeonjun, though.  He’s an art major.”</p><p>“An art major?” Soobin looked to the brunette who had migrated from under the table to the seat diagonal from Beomgyu.  “That’s really neat.  What do you do?”</p><p>“Not really a great time to ask that,” Yeonjun said without looking to Soobin’s eyes. </p><p>“And why is that?”</p><p>“Because he’s losing his mind.” Beomgyu hissed as a foot collided with his shin, glaring at the grumpy elder.</p><p>Soobin’s head flopped to the side in thought.  “Like writer’s block?”</p><p>“Exactly,” Yeonjun sighed. </p><p>“Good luck with that.” Soobin looked away from him, sitting down in the seat Yeonjun once warmed.  “Did you study for the exam tomorrow, yet?” Acknowledging that the other two would begin to speak a language he didn’t remotely understand, he tuned out to attempt to process what was going on.</p><p>There was only one logical explanation to this, and it was that he had seen Soobin and thought he was really attractive, so much so that his physical appearance was engrained in his brain longer than the memory of him was.  That the impact of witnessing someone so beautiful in his eyes put him in a state where the boy’s visuals haunted him.  But Soobin didn’t know him either.  And nobody knew Soobin. </p><p>Maybe there wasn’t a logical explanation at all.</p><p>He entered back into the conversation when Beomgyu said something that made Soobin laugh, the sound nearly making Yeonjun fall out of his chair. </p><p>“He really is a nightmare,” Beomgyu said, laughing, too, and Yeonjun presumed something had been said about a professor they shared. </p><p>“Well, I gotta get going.  Yeonjun-hyung, could I borrow a piece of paper?”</p><p><em>Hyung.</em> Yeonjun stuttered out, “Uh yeah.”</p><p>Soobin quickly wrote something down, pushing it back in Yeonjun’s direction.  “I’ll see you guys around.”</p><p>“See ya!” Beomgyu waved goofily. </p><p>His number.  Yeonjun blushed and Beomgyu was strictly unamused.</p><p>“I thought <em>we </em>were gonna be friends,” he pouted. </p><p>“This is fucking crazy,” Yeonjun said in response, unable to think of anything but the incredulity of the situation he was in.  “How is this happening?”</p><p>“Well how do you know that you just painted someone you knew without realizing?” Beomgyu asked.</p><p>“Have you ever seen him before?” Yeonjun pointed out.  “He’s in your class and you didn’t even recognize him.”</p><p>“Yeah alright, well how would we know if he’s actually from your painting?” Yeonjun shook his head.  He had no idea.  “Hey, if the canvas is magic or something, maybe if you changed something obvious he would change, too.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Like make his hair purple or something,” Beomgyu suggested.  “Or give him a really particular earring.  I don’t know.  Maybe he’d change too if he were really connected to the painting.”</p><p>So Yeonjun and Beomgyu trekked off of campus to test the younger’s theory, finding themselves elbow-deep in a communal dumpster.  “You threw it out?”</p><p>“It terrified me.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Yeonjun shrugged.  “What if it was… <em>looking</em> at me?”</p><p>“You’re really losing it.”</p><p>“How are you not?” Yeonjun walked them from the main room to the studio, mixing up a quick palette to do some hair.  “Purple?”</p><p>Beomgyu shrugged, “Who thinks to just dye their hair purple over night?”</p><p>“Fair enough.”  Beomgyu watched, secretly in awe as his friend brought the tones of brown hair to an ash purple, swirls of depth in a color that would suit his skin nicely.  He winced at the smell in the room, looking around before walking over and opening a window.</p><p>“You gotta breathe real air,” Beomgyu teased, a gentle undertone to his words.  He thought about how concerned he felt when he heard his best friend utter the phrase <em>my painting came to life</em>.  Ruffling Yeonjun’s hair on his way out, he walked into the kitchen, making some more coffee upon the memory of Yeonjun not finishing his.</p><p>“Thank you,” Yeonjun brought the up to his lips, taking a sip without even flinching, putting it back down.  So deep in the painting process he didn’t even realize he had burned his tongue.  “You can go, you know.”</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere.”  Beomgyu’s eyes trained on his friend who was lost in his focus.  “That’s not your coffee.” Yeonjun looked down to his cup of brush cleaner in his hand.</p><p>“Good catch.” A few moments later and Yeonjun took a few steps back.  “Who would’ve known.  Purple.”  It was a good look.   </p><p>“Okay, so now if he has purple hair… he’s the boy from the painting.”</p><p>“How will we know?”</p><p>“You got his number.  Invite him over.  Cook us something, hyung. I’m hungry.” Yeonjun narrowed his eyes before thrusting his phone into Beomgyu’s hands.</p><p>“Invite him over to study or something.  I’ll make noodles.”</p><p>“Why do I have to do it?”</p><p>“I’m not ready to ask him on a date yet.”</p><p>Beomgyu nearly laughed.  "He can't be your boyfriend Yeonjun; You made him up."</p><p>“You act like there are rules established for this type of thing,” Yeonjun, with an obvious sort of hesitation himself, said, “Now call him.”</p><p> </p><p>         Soobin traveled fast, likely coming from the campus himself.  He looked like a bookworm.   By Yeonjun’s design, sure, but it was cute.</p><p>Flinging open the door, the two had to hold back a gasp, Yeonjun unable to speak a word.</p><p>The same was not true for Beomgyu, “It’s fucking purple.”  He looked to Yeonjun, who stared up at the locks that were the color the two had decided upon earlier. </p><p>“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Soobin brushed it off.  <em>A lot.</em>  Yeonjun found that interesting.  So Soobin didn’t recognize changes in his appearance to be changes in his appearance.  “Can I come in?”</p><p>Yeonjun wordlessly stepped out of his way and Soobin took that as permission. </p><p>Beomgyu asked him something and Yeonjun quietly nodded, unable to hear his asking over the blood pounding through his ears, opting for whisking away to his studio where Soobin also was, but to be fair on a canvas.  He couldn’t believe it.</p><p>“Oh, is this your studio?” He heard Soobin ask from the front and was immediately filled with dread covering the canvas quickly with a tarp and turning on his heel.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to barge in.” The elder’s eyes were filled with a light of joy that would have put a smile on his face had he not been losing it entirely.  “Are you alright, hyung?”  Yeonjun averted his gaze, looking down to his paintbrushes, still unable to form a complete thought. </p><p>Yeonjun collected the dirty brushes from the palette in his shaking hands as Soobin took a few confident strides toward him.  “Do I make you nervous, hyung?” He gulped.  Soobin <em>did </em>make him nervous, and Yeonjun wasn’t exactly sure why.  He looked up, nodding, shocked when Soobin wrapped his hands around Yeonjun’s, taking the brushes into his.  “Don’t be.  C’mon.  I’ll help you clean up.”</p><p>Yeonjun found himself looking up to the ceiling in a silent <em>help me</em>, grabbing a small bottle of the turpentine before following Soobin to the kitchen.  “You go study, Soobin.”</p><p>“I didn’t come here to study.  I came here to hang out with you guys,” Soobin smiled warmly.  Yeonjun found himself reciprocating the smile as he cleaned his brushes.</p><p>“Hyung,” Beomgyu whined, coming into the kitchen to sit on the counter.  “I said I’m <em>hungry.</em>”</p><p>“I would offer to cook but it is in no way something I’m particularly good at,” Soobin replied, looking to Yeonjun who stood by the sink.  “Here, let me do that.”  He took a brush from Yeonjun’s hand and allowed himself to be guided in the motions of cleaning the brush, Yeonjun ignoring the sparks underneath his skin wherever Soobin’s brushed against. </p><p>“You don’t wanna hurt the fish, so the chemicals do most of the work, water only a little,” Yeonjun said softly.</p><p>“Got it.” Soobin took a brush from the counter and brushed Yeonjun’s careful gaze over his shoulder.  “Show me you can cook.”</p><p>Beomgyu idly swung his legs against the cabinets.  “Did you get any studying done today, hyung?” he asked.  “Like for the test tomorrow.”</p><p>“Oh no.  I don’t think there’s much hope for me.” The sound of the youngest’s tapping feet against the wood beneath was joined by the sound of vegetables sizzling in a pan, the air now filled with a strong aroma.</p><p>“I’m sure you’ll do fine, Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun tutted, eyes unwavering from where he dropped noodles in now boiling water.</p><p>Soobin smiled, looking over his shoulder with a playful glint in his eye.  “And how would you know?”</p><p>“You talk like you’re smart,” Beomgyu interjected.  “Which is <em>why </em>I asked to <em>study </em>with you.”</p><p>“Oh that’s it, huh?” Soobin took his job of washing the brushes very seriously, methodically pressing against the coils and watching as the paint swirled in the pungent chemical.  “Funny.”</p><p>“What?” Beomgyu hopped off of the counter.</p><p>“Whatever you were painting was the same color as my hair,” Soobin chirped, turning on the tap to complete them.</p><p>“Gyu, get some bowls?” Yeonjun said quickly, trying to dismiss the topic. </p><p>“Then can we study?”</p><p>“You literally asked me to cook,” Yeonjun deadpanned, dumping the noodles into the sauce and meat he had made.</p><p>Beomgyu made little sounds under his breath that could be read as mocking, taking three bowls from the cabinet and putting it on the table in the lounge, Yeonjun following behind with the pan and pouring into the bowls.  Nearly bumping into Soobin on his way back, he smiled at the realization that Soobin had just put his brushes on a towel beside the sink, the water soaking into the material without any color at all.  Kind and a good assistant.  Yeonjun don’t know what exactly about his painting cemented the latter trait, but appreciated it all the same. </p><p>“It’s good, hyung!” Soobin called from where he ate.  “Thank you so much.”</p><p>“Thanks for helping with the brushes,” Yeonjun replied softer, walking back to see Beomgyu sitting in the chair, leaving the only open spot on the loveseat beside Soobin.  Ignoring the wink thrown in his direction, he sat down.  Soobin and Beomgyu resumed their talk of class, Yeonjun nearly losing it when Soobin casually leaning back and wrapping his arm around him.</p><p>“What kind of classes do you take?” Soobin asked. </p><p>“Me?”</p><p>He nodded.  “Yeah, we’ve been talking about ours.”</p><p>“I’ve got a couple of fine arts classes and a couple of random classes for my degree,” Yeonjun answered quickly.</p><p>“What’s your favorite, hyung?  Your painting class?”</p><p>“I hate my instructor.”</p><p>Soobin sighed in understanding.  “That explains why you’re losing your mind?”</p><p>Beomgyu smirked as Yeonjun replied, “Yeah, sorta.”</p><p>“What were you painting before, though?”</p><p>“Nothing.” Yeonjun blushed.</p><p>“Well, hyung, I’m sure it’s very good.”  Ruffling Yeonjun’s hair, he only made the boy blush more.   </p><p>“It is,” Beomgyu grinned, “It’s very good.”</p><p>They continued to playfully talk throughout the night, Beomgyu surprisingly comfortable with the boy he realized his best friend had created while it took some time for Yeonjun to break past that aspect.  They didn’t end up saying their goodbyes until later in the night, long after the sun had already set.</p><p>“I should probably get going,” Soobin sighed, stretching out his long legs in front of him.  “Our exam is pretty early tomorrow.”</p><p>“Oh yeah,” Beomgyu was quick to mimic the idea.  “Totally… was thinking the same thing.”</p><p>“But this was really fun,” Soobin finished.  “Really good to… hang out with people.  Thanks.”</p><p>“Any time,” Yeonjun allowed himself to lean back into Soobin’s arm just before he took it away.</p><p>“You’ll have to let me get you back sometime on the food, Jun-hyung,” Soobin said and Yeonjun felt his cheeks flush with heat once more.  “I’d have to take you out though,” his voice lowered to keep it between them and spare himself the teasing of the boy who was slowly pulling on his shoes at the door. </p><p>Yeonjun nodded, realizing, finally, that there weren’t any rules about how you’re supposed to act in this scenario, and he’d be foolish to allow his anxieties push the boy who had literally come from his dreams away from him.  He smiled. “I’d like that.”</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. He is real and it's crazy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so this is like.  idk how story structure even works i was just vibing anyways so its fluffy and then ends on a cliffhanger but i hope ppl are enjoying it like im enjoying writing it also i had a migraine all morning so any errors that's why sorry (please let me know what u think in the comments if u have any thoughts hehe)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>         Beomgyu’s incessant whining was the closest Yeonjun had ever come to having tinnitus.  Just a constant buzzing, always there, that he would only notice from time to time.  “I really thought Soobin was going to be <em>our </em>friend.  Like, and now he’s your boyfriend or something?”</p><p>“Or something.”</p><p>“Yeonjun, he’s like magic.  Doesn’t that make you a little… hesitant?”</p><p>Yeonjun pondered the idea for a moment before shaking his head.  “All love is a little like magic, I think.”</p><p>“God, you’re whipped.  He crawled out of a painting how many days ago now and you’re saying this nonsense?”  It wasn’t nonsense and both of them knew it.  It was definitely some sort of sign or something that couldn’t be ignored.  “You know… in the movies where the kiss brings the princess back to life?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“You didn’t like… ingest paint right?”</p><p>“What are you even <em>saying</em>?” Yeonjun looked at him with his bottom lip fallen in disbelief.  “No, I didn’t make out with the painting.”</p><p>“Oh.” Beomgyu nearly sounded disappointed and Yeonjun laughed.</p><p>“You’re so odd,” he sighed.  “But no, he just.  Is here now, and I think maybe we can just forget about the fact that… he wasn’t real a few days ago.  Because he is now.”</p><p>“Right,” Beomgyu nodded.   “And that’s why we’re celebrating him passing the exam without me?”</p><p>“Exactly,” Yeonjun answered, not even looking to him, swirling the ice in his cup.  They once again were in the library on campus, where Yeonjun had promised to meet Soobin.  The two of them had planned to go out that evening after finding out that Soobin passed the exam he was sure he wouldn’t.  The tall, now purple-haired boy appeared through the doors, practically bounding toward them with a goofy smile planted on his face.</p><p>“Good to see you’re not hiding this time,” he teased, poking Yeonjun’s cheek.  “Hi Beomgyu.”</p><p>“Hey Soobin.” Soobin replied by ruffling the youngest’s hair, a smile on his face.  “Congrats on your results!”</p><p>“You too, Beomgyu.  Think studying with you saved me.”  Soobin winked and Yeonjun smiled.  “We better get going.  Are we walking Beomgyu home?”</p><p>“I’m an adult, hyung.”</p><p>“No, we’re not walking him home.” Yeonjun and Beomgyu answered at the same time and Soobin nodded.</p><p>“Alright then, Jun-hyung, let’s get going.” He extended a hand to Yeonjun who took it, ignoring the little sparks that he always seemed to get when his skin touched that of Soobin and allowing himself to be pulled up. </p><p>“Where are we going?” Yeonjun looked up to him, smiling.  Despite arguing to Beomgyu earlier that he thought they should forget that Soobin was, in a way, Yeonjun’s product, he still couldn’t ignore the fact that someone so perfect in his eyes was even before him like this.  The painting was in the closet collecting dust, never to be revised again, but Soobin was free and his.  Somehow, but he was starting to think he didn’t exactly care how.</p><p>“I’m going to feed you, hyung,” Soobin answered, tugging him along down the sidewalk, his backpack bouncing against his back.  <em>God, he is so cute.  </em>“Because you cooked for me, so now it’s my turn.  But I can’t cook, so I’m taking you out.  You knew this.”</p><p>“Ah yes, I did,” Yeonjun tutted, allowing himself to be pulled in the direction of Soobin’s excitement. </p><p>“I’ll get you whatever you want,” he emphasized.  “Fritters, noodles, tteokbokki, anything.” Yeonjun smiled at how willing Soobin was to take care of him, in a way he had only ever seen Beomgyu do for him in earnest. </p><p>And take care of him he did, buying him the rice noodles he didn’t even say he wanted but somehow knew he did. </p><p>“I don’t know if you feel the same way, hyung,” Soobin began, gulping down the rest of his bite before continuing.  “I just feel like there’s a connection between us.  Like my energy is compelled by yours.  It’s just a feeling I had.  So if I ever come on strong just-“</p><p>“I feel the same way,” Yeonjun nodded.  “Definitely don’t worry about any of that.”</p><p>“Good,” Soobin said.  “Because you know, you ran away from me.”</p><p>“How does that say that I’m not attracted to you?” Yeonjun looked up, Soobin nearly giggling at the bit of sauce in the corner of his mouth.</p><p>“Hyung, you have much to learn.  Like, there’s no need to run,” he said, sending the warmest smile across the table.  Yeonjun would have laughed if it weren’t for his desire to keep Soobin’s own origins from him.  He wouldn’t exactly mind Soobin teaching him some things.  He reached across the table, pulling Soobin’s free hand into his own and rubbing circles against the skin, eyes falling on an interesting mark on his hand.</p><p>“Oh yeah, that’s just something I’ve always had.” Yeonjun felt his heart stutter at the realization of the birthmark on his hand, very uncomfortable with the fact that the boy bore the mark of his signature.</p><p> </p><p>         After the food was long gone, the sun settling low, Yeonjun suggested they go back to his place, shocked to find Beomgyu had let himself and two friends in.</p><p>“They’re from my literature class please can they stay, hyung?”</p><p>“Yeah they can, but you can’t, how about that?” Yeonjun was not amused in the slightest, stomping off to his studio, quickly turning on his heel to try to stop Soobin from following him.  “Beomgyu what were you doing in my studio?”</p><p>“I wanted to show Hyuka and Taehyun.”  Yeonjun recognized now why the two others were ogling at Soobin with looks of mixed shock and excitement.</p><p>He nearly growled, ”You can’t just do that.  Especially not with <em>that</em>.”</p><p>Soobin wrapped arms around him from behind, “Just try to calm down.  He’s just excited about your work.”  Yeonjun wanted to kick himself.  This whole thing was so absurd to him and he didn’t know how much longer he could act like it was just chance that brought Soobin into his life.  He wished Soobin could understand why he had every right to be angry with Beomgyu for just exposing a secret so personal and confusing as this one. </p><p>“Not his to share,” he let out through scowling lips, and Soobin chuckled.  “What’s funny?”</p><p>“You just seem very small right now, but so angry,” he teased.</p><p>“Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun whined, trying to escape his embrace. </p><p>“C’mon, be nice,” Soobin tutted.  “We left him alone all day.  We could watch a movie or something?” He gave Yeonjun a quick kiss on the cheek, him immediately softening in his grasp.</p><p>And so, they were on the loveseat again, Yeonjun’s head resting on his shoulder as the five were illuminated by the glow of the television.  Soobin idly twirled pieces of Yeonjun’s hair, the older softly humming each time fingertips brushed against his neck.</p><p>“Thank you,” Soobin whispered into his hair.</p><p>Yeonjun frowned. “For what?”</p><p>“For giving me a life.”  His heart nearly leapt out of his chest.  How did he find out?</p><p>“What?” He stuttered out.</p><p>“Well like, I never really had people I could hang out with,” Soobin shrugged and Yeonjun nearly relaxed.  “Now I’m watching a movie with people.  After going out for food with you.  All because you gave me googlie eyes in a shop.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Yeonjun nodded.  “It’s nice, isn’t it?”</p><p>“I’m happy,” Soobin sighed as Yeonjun snuggled further into him.</p><p> </p><p>         “So like, what were the magic words?” Yeonjun looked to Kai with a scowl somehow reaching his eyes.  For the two weeks that Soobin and Yeonjun had been going on regular dates, the younger two had many questions, even more than Beomgyu had.  While Yeonjun and Soobin got closer, the five of them all managed to get closer by way of friendship, and things fell into a sort of regular routine with them that was quite comforting to Yeonjun.</p><p>“No magic words.”</p><p>“Okay, no magic words.”  He nearly knocked the notebook out of Kai’s hands, furious at the idea of anyone acting like his Soobin was someone to be studied.  If he were, that anxiety for Soobin would be Yeonjun’s fault, and he couldn’t stand the idea of that.  It wasn’t Soobin’s fault that his origin was as perplexing as it was.  In fairness, it wasn’t Yeonjun’s either, but it would be Yeonjun’s fault if Soobin wasn’t protected. </p><p>“Just drop it,” Yeonjun winced at his harsh tone.  “Sorry.”</p><p>“I understand why you might be angry,” Taehyun said, bouncing his leg anxiously.  “But maybe the tension could go away if Soobin knew.”</p><p>“He can’t know,” Yeonjun answered quickly. </p><p>“But maybe-“</p><p>“What?  It could make me feel better for Soobin to realize that he isn’t, in fact <em>real</em>, and that he is instead a weird fever dream of mine come to life?” Yeonjun hadn’t been sleeping much, which explained the agitation he revealed on a regular basis, then.  All it took was Soobin being around for him to relax.  “Sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t apologize, hyung.  Maybe when you realize he’s actually real it’ll feel easier.”</p><p>Yeonjun was glad for his budding friendship with the two younger boys, enjoying having people around when Beomgyu and Soobin were both in class.  He had learned that having more people than just Beomgyu wasn’t as exhausting as he had convinced himself it would be. </p><p>Plus, the library tables had six seats, and he didn’t have to feel guilty about taking a whole table anymore.</p><p>“Hyung!” He looked up to the door to see the two boys had gotten out of lecture, walking toward the table with smiles on their faces.  “It’s Friday!”</p><p>“Again?” Yeonjun rolled his eyes.  Weekends were hell for him, as it was the only time he could actually get work done in bulk for his classes the next week.  Weeknights were his refuge, but that didn’t stop Beomgyu for acting like Fridays were means to party. </p><p>“You have to work?” Beomgyu frowned. </p><p>“Always, but you guys can still go out,” Yeonjun offered.  But, now that Beomgyu had folded new people into their small friendship circle, maybe he could enjoy his Fridays.</p><p>The younger nodded, beginning to discuss vague plans with the other.  Soobin poked Yeonjun’s cheek, “I could watch you work?  Keep you company?” Yeonjun nodded, smiling as he reciprocated Soobin’s tender action by catching his round cheeks in his hand, scrunching his face in a way that made Yeonjun grin.  He was so <em>cute. </em></p><p>“You’re adorable,” Yeonjun teased, “I would love to have your company.”</p><p>The two walked back to Yeonjun’s with hands intertwined, a long library session after a late class leaving them in the warm glow of street lamps.</p><p>“Quick stop for snacks?” Soobin pouted, tugging on Yeonjun’s hand to pull him into the shop, the elder laughing as he had no choice ultimately.  “We met here!” Soobin said cheerfully, and Yeonjun smiled, nodding. </p><p>“Promise I won’t run out on you this time, huh?” Soobin nodded, going off into the snack aisle to grab some things to help them get through the evening of working, piling a load of packages onto the counter, the two of them leaving the shop this time hand-in-hand.  </p><p>“So you’ve got art work to do?” Soobin asked, his head flopping over in thought as Yeonjun let them in. </p><p>“Yeah, just a painting I have to do, but it shouldn’t take all that long honestly,” Yeonjun answered.  “I’ve gotten alright at just making what they need and not really caring how I feel about it.  I like to make my own kind of stuff that’s not an assignment.”</p><p>Soobin nodded, “That makes sense.  You want it to be yours.”</p><p>“Exactly,” Yeonjun kicked his shoes off and headed into his studio, hiding the canvas of Soobin in the back of the closet. </p><p>“Is it okay for me to come in?” Soobin ducked his head in the door, his hair flopping backwards in a way that put a grin on Yeonjun’s face.</p><p>“Totally.” Soobin smilled, trotting in and immediately looking for a space to sit.  “This place is a bit of a…”</p><p>“It’s a creative mess,” Yeonjun nodded.  “I know where everything is, I promise.”</p><p>“You amaze me,” Soobin sat himself up on the ledge by the window, looking out into the night.  He pulled out his phone, idly scrolling while occasionally chatting, smiling always at the sight of Yeonjun’s lips pursed in focus as he worked.  It was like he was in his own head, no sense of the space or time that flew by.  It brought a warmth to Soobin to see him so dedicated and into something, as most of the time when the others spoke about school he seemed to disengage, and even when asked about his own classes he didn’t have much to say. </p><p>He enjoyed watching Yeonjun do what he always knew he could but never got to see, and being able to exist in the same space as that Yeonjun felt so special. </p><p>He couldn't pull his gaze from Yeonjun's lips, the bottom, folded under his top teeth as he worked.  He felt an overwhelming desire then, “I want to kiss you,” Soobin said finally, breaking a longer comfortable silence.</p><p>“You already did,” Yeonjun pointed a brush in his direction, quirking a smile.</p><p>“That was on the cheek.” Yeonjun smiled and walked up to him from his easel to where he sat with his legs dangling over the window ledge.</p><p>“Oh?” Soobin nodded, the little dimple showing with his awkward grin and Yeonjun reached forward, cupping his face and leaning in, pulling that top lip between his like he had always imagined, kissing the boy from his painting like he had wanted to before he even sat before him, eyes fluttering shut as Soobin pushed back, bringing his hands to Yeonjun’s hair and twirling the hairs at the nape of his neck.   Everything about how soft Soobin felt in Yeonjun’s embrace made his knees felt like mush, pulling away after a few moments and smiling at the blush that filled Soobin’s cheeks.  “Good?”</p><p>Soobin nodded again, “You can go back to your work now, Jun-Hyung.” He ducked his head, the apples of his cheeks not falling as he relaxed back on the ledge, Yeonjun hiding back behind the canvas of his work, the smile not leaving his face either.</p><p>“Soobin-ah, can you grab me something really quick?” Yeonjun said after a while, eyes not leaving the painting, words escaping around the paintbrush he held between his teeth.</p><p>“Of course,” Soobin looked to him.</p><p>“It’s in the closet,” Yeonjun directed, “The left set of drawers, third down.  I need another tube of the blue that’s in there.”  Soobin strode over to the closet, swinging the door open and reaching into the drawer as directed, but something else caught his eye. </p><p>It was a canvas, a bit bigger than the others, and from the bit that poked out he could see it was hair.  His color hair.  He thought back to when Yeonjun’s brushes were that color, the first day they hung out. </p><p>“Soobin,” Yeonjun wasn’t focused on his painting anymore.  How could he?  He knew the gaze of the younger to be on the painting that he should have hid better, the one that brought him to life for reasons still unknown that Yeonjun wished would never see the light of day.  The whole world he had built up from scratch was at risk of crumbling before his very eyes.  “What’s wrong?”</p><p>Soobin could hear the anxiety in Yeonjun’s voice and he turned back to look at where he stood at the painting, trying to read his face for an answer. </p><p>He allowed his curiosity to get the best of him, pulling the painting out from the closet.  “Why didn’t you tell me you painted me?”</p><p>“It’s a bit more complicated than just a painting of you, to me it is anyway,” Yeonjun sighed, but froze as Soobin turned it around. </p><p>The date.  “More complicated because you painted me before we even met?”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Finding the spark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>      Yeonjun was frozen.  “Soobin-“</p><p>“Can you explain what…” Soobin trailed off, unable to find words to explain what he needed to hear.  He was confused, concerned, and mostly upset.  The idea of Yeonjun being someone Soobin didn’t know after all, someone who was hiding things, was scary, and he didn’t want to lose him, but he certainly didn’t want to be with someone who snuck around even with something as personal as his art.</p><p>Yeonjun was equally stunned, not quite ready to deal with this conversation yet.  Frankly, he wasn’t ever going to be ready for it, which was probably why he put it off for so long. </p><p>He had two options, tell Soobin the truth, or let Soobin think that he was some stalker who lied about not knowing Soobin.  Did he want to look crazy or did he want to look crazy?</p><p>“It’s really… it’s a lot,” Yeonjun began, unable to look Soobin in the eye. </p><p>“So much that I don’t deserve to know?” His face fell, knowing now that Soobin was upset and it was his fault. </p><p>“I made the painting,” Yeonjun tried to find a way to explain it, “And I know.  I know it’s going to sound crazy.  But.  The painting of you existed, and <em>then </em>you did.  You are the painting.”</p><p>Soobin scoffed.  “That’s insane.”</p><p>“It’s true,” Yeonjun tried.  “I didn’t believe it either.  Your hair is purple because we were trying to confirm it ourselves, that you and the painting were one and the same.”</p><p>“What?” Soobin shook his head.  There was no way he wasn’t real.  It couldn’t be true.  “I’m very much alive.  I am not a painting.”</p><p>“Not anymore,” Yeonjun’s eyes welled with frustrated tears, frustrated that Soobin had to know, that Soobin had to try to figure out all of this about himself. </p><p>“You’re crazy.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“This isn’t real.  It can’t be real because <em>I’m </em>real.”</p><p>“You are real, you are.”</p><p>“You’re telling me I’m not.”</p><p>“You are, I never said you <em>aren’t</em>,” Yeonjun’s voice dropped to a whisper.  “You just… <em>weren’t</em>.”</p><p>“And that’s better?” Soobin was almost angry now, hands raised to his head.  Yeonjun understood why he would act this way; How could he expect any different?  He thought back to how he responded to the realization, but he wasn’t the one who was finding out he came from a painting.  Truth is, he had no idea what Soobin was experiencing, and he could only imagine.</p><p>Soobin ran his hands through his hair.  “What about me is <em>me</em>?”</p><p>“Everything.  Everything about you is you,” Yeonjun pleaded. </p><p>Soobin shook his head.  “But if what you’re saying is true-“</p><p>“It is.”</p><p>“Prove it then,” Soobin snapped.  “Prove that I’m from… <em>that.” </em>He gestured to where the painting was thrown on the grown.  “Prove it.” His voice was shaking, clearly trying to hold it together with this absurd news.  He wanted to trust Yeonjun but the idea was too insane to be real.</p><p>“The mark, on your hand.” Yeonjun frowned.  “It’s my signature.”</p><p>“What?” Soobin raised his hand to his eyes, staring at the little mark that he had been perplexed by since Yeonjun was moved by it the first time he saw it.  He thought back to the look of realization Yeonjun had at seeing the mark, that at the time he didn’t think much of.  “That’s…” He looked to the painting, seeing a little charcoal scrawl where his hand was in the painting.  “Get rid of it.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I don’t want your name on me.  I don’t want anything to do with any of this,” Soobin spoke firmly, and Yeonjun felt his heart twist.  He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.  “Get your name off of my body.”</p><p>“Of course,” Yeonjun was quick to toss his homework assignment to the side and put Soobin back on the easel.  He remembered the minor horror he felt the last time he was before this painting, the shock that was overcome by the giddiness of realizing the boy who was his dream boy was now real.  How selfish that was of him.  He felt his stomach rise in his throat, tears now freely falling from his eyes.</p><p>He had deluded himself into thinking he could have Soobin and everything would be normal, when their relationship wasn’t fated to be particularly normal to begin with.  He was silly to believe that this day wouldn’t ever have to come.</p><p>“It’s done,” Yeonjun sighed and watched as Soobin brought his hand up to see. </p><p>He nodded.  “It is done.  Holy shit.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Yeonjun let out a sad laugh, reaching up and wiping his tears.  “I don’t know how.  I don’t know why.  I’m just glad I got to meet you.”  Soobin didn’t meet his gaze, eyes still unfocused on his hand that was now without mark.  “I’m sorry,” Yeonjun repeated.</p><p>Soobin left without saying a word.</p><p> </p><p>         Yeonjun didn’t finish his work that weekend.  Didn’t even go to class on Monday.   The next time Yeonjun made his existence known to something other than his couch was when he was forced out of his stupor by banging on his front door.</p><p>“What did you do?” Beomgyu shouted from the other side, and Yeonjun debated not even responding let alone answering the door and letting him in.  “Yeonjun,” Beomgyu lowered his voice, now a soft sigh from the other side.  “Please?”</p><p>Yeonjun rolled off of the couch for the first time all day, having spent the better part of his time just staring at the ceiling. </p><p>“Jun-hyung,” Beomgyu frowned, stepping inside.  “What the hell happened?”</p><p>“He found out,” Yeonjun nodded, immediately going back to lying on the couch. </p><p>“Nope, you gotta get up,” Beomgyu walked forward and tugged on the elder’s hands, pulling him to his feet.  “We’re going to get you food.”</p><p>“Gyu-“</p><p>“When was the last time you slept?”</p><p>“Sleep and being awake have kind of been the same thing,” Yeonjun said pointedly.</p><p>“Right.  Get changed, then, we’re getting food in you.”</p><p>The younger took care of him then, encouraging him to change into clean clothes, going into his studio and seeing dirty brushes next to the painting of Soobin, understanding that to have been where the conversation went.  He grabbed the brushes and brought them to the kitchen, giving them as thorough of a wash as he could after they had been left caked in oil paint for who even knows how long.  Leaving them on a towel to dry beside the sink he walked out of the kitchen to see Yeonjun sitting on the couch, now in different clothes with his head in his hands.</p><p>“We’re gonna talk about it in between bites,” Beomgyu said pointedly, grabbing his hand and tugging him up off of the couch once again.  “It’s sad, confusing, maybe even scary.  But there’s a constant in this life and that’s meat.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Yeonjun sniffled, grabbing his keys and walking alongside his best friend until the two stopped, heading into an open restaurant with a warm light and inviting atmosphere. </p><p>“I’ll order; you go sit,” Beomgyu directed and Yeonjun waited patiently.  “I got almost everything you like.  Now spill.”</p><p>And Yeonjun did.  He told Beomgyu about how they kissed, about how he directed Soobin to go into the closet which he cited as his first and only mistake.  He knew the conversation would have had to happen eventually, but Yeonjun just wished they could have had more time before Soobin inevitably left.  They didn’t get to have enough time.  He was crying at the end, and it wasn’t due to the fact that Beomgyu bought the spicy tteokbokki.  He shared how Soobin said he didn’t want anything to do with any of this and left without saying anything more.</p><p>“So… where did he go?” Beomgyu asked, a slight pout on his face as he thought back to how Soobin hadn’t been in their class that evening like he normally was. </p><p>“No clue,” Yeonjun sighed.  “He wasn’t in class?” He felt his heart nearly break when Beomgyu shook his head. </p><p>Just as quickly as he came into Yeonjun’s life, Soobin was gone.</p><p> </p><p>         Weeks passed, and Yeonjun practiced exercises in healing.  Hanging his final project for one of his art classes, and his year as an art major in his final exhibition, he decided nothing said healing quite like deciding that his painting of Soobin was just a work of his art.  While he was torn over it for so long, it was one of his best works regardless of the struggles that came with it.</p><p>He missed Soobin every day, as, even though he had fallen for Soobin quickly after meeting him, painting him was painting someone he knew whom he would love.  So naturally, he loved the painting.  How could he not?</p><p>His instructors and advisor liked it too, even though nobody understood his hesitation to include it.  The style matched his other works, and a bit of extra work on the background made it match with his works thematically, now less of a creative exercise and more of an extension of his artistry like everything else. </p><p>Soon, in Yeonjun’s eyes, Soobin was just a painting of his again, and the time the two spent together was slowly more and more like a dream of the past.</p><p>His year’s reception was that night, and Yeonjun wasn’t sure that the others would show up.  He knew that the three had their literature class until maybe an hour after opening, so maybe they wouldn’t.  He didn’t mind, knowing full-well that his work only mattered to them because they cared about him. </p><p>The program was small, and he knew most other people sharing the art space with him, but he wasn’t friendly with any of them beside the level of friendship that was necessary.  Very little about his art education at the university felt like it had any depth or reality to it.  All the years felt hazy and lacking in any sort of personal discovery of himself as an artist.</p><p>Except for Soobin. </p><p>Everything with Soobin felt tangible and real, even the heartbreak feeling rawer than any other emotional experience he had been forced to experience while at school. </p><p>Soobin was exactly the freshness and restart that Yeonjun had been looking for when he first set out on the project, even if not exactly in the way in the way he intended.</p><p>He bowed in response to subtle praise from his instructor as he walked through the collection of his work, determining final marks and then leaving. </p><p>The lights dimmed as the sun went down, snacks and drinks being set out for the reception.  He smiled as he watched his three friends tumble through the doors, slightly panic stricken until their eyes fell on Yeonjun.</p><p>“We thought we’d be late,” Kai breathed out, clapping a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder.</p><p>“I didn’t even think you guys would come,” Yeonjun said.</p><p>“Of course, we came,” Taehyun said, waving off the elder’s doubt.  “We whine about our classes all the time and you just listen.  It’s only fair you make us listen for one night.”</p><p>“Also, there’s food,” Beomgyu pointed to the table by the door, grinning widely to which Yeonjun nearly scowled.  “Kidding.  Kinda.”</p><p>“You put him in?” Taehyun pointed to the portrait of Soobin on the wall.</p><p>“Still my best piece of the year, honestly,” Yeonjun nodded. </p><p>“You changed it?” Kai walked up to it, looking at the areas where gold leaf intricately swirled in the background. </p><p>“Just so it would match.” It did, many of his other works with similar portraits in golden contexts.  Soobin’s was a small crown, which Yeonjun had made perfectly hover over his head so as to not risk it affecting Soobin. </p><p>He often found himself wondering where Soobin was.  How he was doing out in the world and coping with understanding who he is and where he came from.  He worried often, as well, and just hoped that he was safe and okay.</p><p>“I don’t even know where you found the time to do all of this,” Beomgyu gestured to the dozen works on the walls.  “I swear I have never seen any of these.”</p><p>“I do go to class; You know that right?” Yeonjun lifted a brow.  “Like, just as many as you do.”</p><p>“Seems fake.” He rolled his eyes before feeling warmth rise to his cheeks.</p><p>“Hey, guys thanks for coming,” Yeonjun spoke softly.  “It feels nice to have people care about what I do.”</p><p>“Of course, we do,” Taehyun mumbled. </p><p>“Yeah, hyung, we care about you,” Beomgyu ruffled Yeonjun’s hair, overjoyed to find his friend in a space where he could smile and be happy again. </p><p>For weeks after Soobin disappeared from their lives he worried that Yeonjun would be tarnished after the negative results of his relationship with Soobin, watching him distance himself from his friends to try to understand where to do next.  But he found his feet again, and being able to witness him breaking free from that state was very joyful for Beomgyu.</p><p>Yeonjun spoke about his art briefly to all of them, and smiled when they ultimately decided to leave so he could talk to other people visiting the reception.  He stood in front of the portrait of Soobin, a soft smile resting on his face.</p><p>“You hung it up.” The smile dropped. </p><p>He turned, nearly jumping back at the sight of Soobin standing behind him.  “Sorry if I snuck up on you.”  Yeonjun couldn’t find any words, silently looking to his painting and back to Soobin who stood behind him, finding his face flush with warmth as he became quickly overwhelmed.</p><p>“I wasn’t… I wasn’t expecting to ever see you again,” Yeonjun spoke finally, averting his gaze.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Soobin frowned.  “I’m sorry that I reacted like that.” Yeonjun nodded. </p><p>“I’m sorry I hid the truth from you,” Yeonjun apologized back, and the two stood there for a moment without saying anything at all.  He truly wasn’t expecting to see Soobin again, much less in this context, but he wasn’t sure if he minded, truly.  He was happy to see him again.  “Why are you here, now?”</p><p>“I got the flyer for the reception in my email,” Soobin said.  “I always liked the artistic side of you, and figured I’d probably want to start anew in the context of the side you kept hidden from me.  Sort of like, no secrets this time.”</p><p>“Start anew?” Yeonjun’s eyes were wide and he felt his heart rate speed up.  He wasn’t exactly sure if he was ready for anything to start again with Soobin, though he couldn’t lie he had thought about it many times.</p><p>Soobin nodded, “If you want.  I’m sorry I was gone for so long.”</p><p>Yeonjun could understand, though he wished there was some sort of communication.  Though, he could also understand why there wasn’t, especially not with him. </p><p>Soobin needed time, and he didn’t owe anyone explanation as to why.  Yeonjun had not communicated the truth with Soobin to begin with, and that was on him, too.</p><p>“You don’t have to apologize,” Yeonjun sighed.</p><p>“I’m going to.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, too,” Yeonjun responded quickly.</p><p>“I know.” Soobin looked to the painting.  “I like how you made it yours.”</p><p>“I didn’t,” Yeonjun shook his head.  “Just added what felt right to make it more you.”</p><p>“The crown?”</p><p>“Exactly.”  Soobin smiled. </p><p>Yeonjun looked Soobin up in down, familiarizing himself with him again.  There was something different about his energy, more confident than when he left Yeonjun in his studio.  He was Soobin, still, but maybe less of the one Yeonjun painted and more of the one he found for himself, which filled Yeonjun with a profound joy.</p><p>“You look comfortable,” Yeonjun pointed out. </p><p>Soobin pressed his lips together in that awkward goofy way and nodded, his dimples prominent in his cheeks in a way that Yeonjun couldn’t help but smile.   "I am comfortable."</p><p>Turning to look at the painting finally, Soobin reached forward, taking Yeonjun’s hand into his own, and Yeonjun felt himself sigh at the realization that the feeling in his heart was simply the spark he had been looking to reignite after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so that's it its done i hope it was what ppl were hoping it would be, just a little short thing that was wholly self-indulgent and not developed enough to actually feel satisfying i dont think but i hope you all enjoyed this little thing after all.</p>
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